What About The Waffles?
by The Talismaniac
Summary: Sara and Danny are on the trail of a vicious murder streak, and Gabriel's developed an obsession with waffles that no one understands. Rated for language.
1. Video Tapes

**What About The Waffles?!**

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Witchblade, nor do I claim to. None of the characters belong to me. They are all property of the Warner Bros. network and Top Cow. So please, don't sue me for having a little fun!

Author's Note: The inspiration for this story came from the Plot Bunnies page at http://usa.internations.net/contents/behindthescenes/plotbunnies.htm Yes, it was originally doughnuts, but, well, my friends and I have a very long-standing joke about waffles, and waffles sounded much more random. In the context of a police precinct, nobody wonders about references to doughnuts. *grins evilly*

"Time to make the waffles!"

Sara Pezzini and her partner Danny Woo turned to stare at the young man who had spoken. He had been sitting silently at Sara's computer for several minutes, attempting to identify a particular frame in a security video the pair had shown him. Now, he stood up, gave them both a wide smile, and wandered out of the room.

Sara turned her stare to Danny, who cocked an eyebrow at her. "_What_ was that about?" he asked.

"Was hoping you could tell me," Sara said, puzzled.

"Waffles," Danny repeated blankly, craning his neck in an attempt to see where the boy had got to.

Sara crossed the room and poked her head out the door. "Gabriel!" she bellowed. "Gabrie—" She stopped when she saw him coming back across the precinct toward her. "Where did you just disappear to?"

"Waffles," he said cryptically, sliding back into the office and resuming his seat at the computer as if nothing had happened.

Sara and Danny exchanged another quizzical look and then decided they didn't want to know.

Gabriel Bowman was quite brilliant and a good asset to the precinct, but occasionally the two homicide detectives wondered about him. The number of hours he spent in his dim apartment, researching various artifacts on his numerous computers, could not possibly be healthy for anyone, though up until just now it hadn't appeared to have had any adverse effects on him.

"Got it!" he said abruptly, startling the detectives again. He looked at them quite seriously, as if no mention whatsoever had been made of breakfast foodstuffs. "I found the frame."

Sara and Danny crossed the room and peered over Gabriel's shoulder at the computer screen.

The two detectives had invited the young artifacts dealer to join them in their investigation of a recent string of bizarre murders; sometimes he liked to film their investigations as practice for the documentary he hoped to produce one day, and this had struck them as a good one for him to work with since there was a huge amount of media attention surrounding it. Three women in two weeks had been going about their ordinary business when their heads had suddenly been lopped off – apparently by nothing, claimed the witnesses. The latest one, however, had been caught on tape when it happened just outside a bank, and Gabriel had watched the scene five or six times before deciding to go through it frame by frame.

What he had finally found was, in fact, two frames, in which a blur of white appeared before the victim's neck split and the head dropped to the ground. Its appearance in only two frames explained why no witnesses had seen it; it would have been visible for merely a tenth of a second. It had taken Gabriel's hawk-sharp eyes to catch it. And it was still not remotely clear what "it" was – the smear of white on the black-and-white film might have been nearly anything: light, metal, smoke…

Sara sighed. "Well, that's not much help, is it? Can you clean it up any more than that, Gabriel?"

"Probably not much," he replied, shaking his head, "but I'll give it a shot. I'll need to take it home though. I need my computer for this."

"Sure thing, kid," Danny told him. "Anything you can tell us about it would be appreciated."

"Waffles," Gabriel said, standing up.

"What?!" Sara and Danny exclaimed in unison.

Gabriel blinked. "I said, I'll be back in a few hours."

"No you didn't," Sara objected. "You said—" When Gabriel looked at her as if she were acting strangely, she stopped. "Never mind."

"Um, yeah… whatever. Anyway. I'll be back."

"Is he okay?" Danny asked Sara as Gabriel disappeared out the door.

Sara was still staring after him. "I'm startin' to wonder…" she muttered.


	2. Computers

**What About The Waffles?!**

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Witchblade, nor do I claim to. None of the characters belong to me. They are all property of the Warner Bros. network and Top Cow, with the exception of Elri, who belongs to, well, Elri. So please, don't sue me for having a little fun!

**Author's Note**: I realized when trying to write this chapter that I had absolutely no concept of where this fic was going or what its point was. I merely wrote the first chapter at four a.m. because it wouldn't leave me alone. Therefore, if you find anything that doesn't make sense, do point it out – since I had nothing planned for this fic, I'm sorta flyin' by the seat of my pants here, so to speak.

**Author's Note 2**: Again, blame the Plot Bunnies.

"Time to make the waffles!"

Ignoring the startled look from the girl in front of him, Gabriel Bowman stood up, came around the counter, and strode out the front door of his shop. The young woman stared quizzically after him, frozen in the middle of reaching for a sword that hung on the wall.

She blinked, and was halfway to the door to see where he'd gone when he reappeared. He gave her a wide, blank smile, and then returned to his place behind the desk. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked genially.

"Uh…" Thoroughly confused, the girl couldn't do anything but stare. "I don't think so," she managed finally. "Just… uh… browsing."

"Enjoy," Gabriel said seriously. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll do that," she said slowly, still looking at him as though she wondered if he were mentally unstable. She left shortly afterward – without buying anything.

When she'd disappeared, Gabriel returned to the back room where he'd been working on the videotape, but paused when he heard someone come through the front door.

"Gabriel?"

Recognizing Sara's voice, Gabriel hurried out again. "Hey!" he said, greeting her with a smile.

She cut straight to the point. "Find anything new on the tape?"

"Not much." He ushered her into the back room, flipping on the lights as he went – he knew he was accustomed to much darker lighting than most people. He found her a chair and pulled his own up in front of the computer screen. "I zoomed in on this bit," he indicated the smudge on the screen, "and tried sharpening the focus, but as you can see it didn't do much good." Now, instead of looking like a light blur, it had become… a white shape. "It's angled," he said mournfully, "so if it's even _got_ a recognizable form, we won't be able to tell."

"Can't you stick it in one of those graphics programs and rotate it or something to see what it could be?"

Gabriel shook his head. "It's a good idea, but it doesn't work that way. Unless the original shape was created within the program, it wouldn't be able to show it. It can't create things on its own; it can only use parameters I've given it. I _could_ stick the form in and give it some suggestions," he said thoughtfully, "but it'd give me half a dozen different possibilities, and we'd have no guarantee that any of them would be right."

Sara sighed. "Well, do it anyway," she told him. "It's the only lead we've got right now."

He nodded as she stood up, and then winced. "What do you feed your pants to make them so shiny?"

"_Excuse_ me?!" Sara stared at him.

He half-opened one eye and looked at her sideways. "Your pants," he said, gesturing.

She glanced down, and realized that the light from the window was reflecting off her pleather pants and hitting him full in the face. "Oh! Oops," she said apologetically, and stepped sideways out of the light.

"Thanks," Gabriel laughed. He blinked for a moment or two to clear his sight, and then stood up. "You probably have to get back to work," he said, and she nodded. "I won't keep you then. I'll do some more work on this and bring it by the precinct later tonight."

"Thanks, kiddo." Sara let him walk her to the door of the shop, and then gave him a slap on the back. "See you in a couple hours then?"

Gabriel's smile suddenly seemed vacant. "Time to make the waffles," he said, and shut the door.

Sara found herself staring at the little placard that said "TALISMANIAC.COM" and thinking that she definitely didn't want to know.


	3. Elri

**What About The Waffles?!**

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Witchblade, nor do I claim to. None of the characters belong to me. They are all property of the Warner Bros. network and Top Cow, with the exception of Elri, who belongs to, well, Elri. So please, don't sue me for having a little fun!

**Author's Note:** Sorry for taking so long to write such a short chapter, you guys! ;_; My sincerest apologies. Unfortunately I've been utterly un-inspired with this one, probably because I had no idea where it was going in the first place. So, here's this chapter while I go work on the next one.

"Time to make the waffles!"

It was Jake this time who gave Gabriel a puzzled stare as the youth wandered dreamily out of the room. He cocked an eyebrow at Sara. "That kid ok?"

Sara rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "When I figure out what qualifies as "ok" I'll tell you."

Jake grinned. "Fair enough."

The office door opened. Neither detective looked up, assuming that it was Gabriel returning. Sara was almost growing accustomed to his random references to breakfast items; she'd been hearing them at unexpected moments for nearly a week. And they were inevitably followed by his disappearing out of whatever room he currently occupied, and returning a few moments later with a vaguely puzzled look on his face. **_As if he couldn't find the waffle mix_**, Sara thought with a snort.

"Heya, Jakey-boy! Miss me?" Sara's head snapped up at the sound of a female voice. So did Jake's.

There was a young woman leaning languidly against the doorframe with a broad grin on her face. She was small, a few inches shorter than Sara, with close-cropped dark hair and black clothing that accented every curve she had. Her high-heeled boots clunked on the cement floor as she crossed the room and gave Jake a _very_ emphatic kiss. Sara averted her eyes after a moment, knowing it was impolite to stare.

"Uh, Sara, this is my girlfriend," Jake said a minute later in an apologetic tone of voice.

"Girlfriend? Really…" Sara said sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow at him. Then she held out a hand to the girl. "Sara Pezzini."

"Elrianra Stargata," said the younger woman, returning the shake with a firm grip. "Most people call me Elri."

"Nice to meet you," Sara said – but she was glaring at Jake as she said it.

Displaying remarkable observational skills, Jake took the blatant hint and sat down at his desk, riffling through papers. "So what are we looking for?" he asked.

"Waffles?" Gabriel had reappeared, wearing a slightly quizzical expression.

Sara threw down her pen. "Enough already!" she snapped, turning on him. "Will you quit talking about the damned waffles?!"

Gabriel stared at her, looking startled and vaguely affronted. "I only meant to bring you breakfast…" he muttered, setting down the box he was carrying and pulling out plates of Eggos for Sara and Jake. "I'd have brought you some too if I'd known you were coming," he told Elri shyly.

He was rewarded with a wide grin. "Don't worry about it," she told him lightly. "I didn't even tell Jakey-boy here that I was coming." She wrapped her arms around Jake's shoulders and nibbled playfully at his neck, which made both Sara and Gabriel blush and turn away.

"Have we met before?" Gabriel asked Elri suddenly.

She looked up and then shook her head. "Not officially, but I was in your shop the other day looking at a sword called Elenlinde. You were talking about waffles then, too," she added, her mischievous grin returning.

"Was I really?" Gabriel scratched his head. "I don't remember that…"

"You're kidding! I thought they were some sort of fetish or something," Elri added flippantly. Gabriel turned so red that they wouldn't have been surprised to see steam coming out his ears.

Trying to contain a snigger, Sara changed the subject by answering Jake's original question. "We're looking for anything that might connect the victims," she said. "Aside from the fact that they're female, they don't appear to have anything in common. The first was fifteen, tomboyish, dark-haired, shy, very rich family. The second was seventy-two, a little old Russian woman with eight grandchildren. And the most recent—" She broke off as the phone rang.

"Pezzini, go," she said, picking it up. Then her face went pale. Gabriel, Jake, and Elri stopped and stared at her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and said, "Got it. Be there in twenty. Right."

"Gabriel, get your cameras," she snapped, dropping the phone into its holster. "And where the hell is Danny?"

"Not here yet," said Jake. "What's up?"

Her face was cold and deadly serious as she announced, "There's been another murder."


	4. The Vision

"Well, that blows _that_ theory," Jake said despondently, slumping against the hood of the car. The murder scene had been a gruesome one, and all four of them – Jake, Sara, Danny, and Gabriel – were rather shaken. Danny had met them at the crime scene ten minutes after the other three had arrived, and after even a brief investigation of the scene, they had to admit Jake was right.

"Sure does," Sara agreed, her face studiously expressionless as she turned away.

"Uh," Gabriel piped up, "what theory?"

"Up until now, the victims were all women," Danny pointed out.  "At least there was one similarity between them; it was a place to start, if nothing else. But with Mister Twenty-Something Drug Dealer over here, even that connection can't be made. Means we're right back at the beginning. Again."

"Oh." Gabriel, who had temporarily forgotten he was supposed to be documenting everything, suddenly remembered and brought his cameras up to focus on Sara's face. "Any ideas where to start looking?" he asked.

Sara didn't even look at him. "Put the cameras away, Gabriel," she said quietly.

Ordinarily Gabriel would have argued vehemently with that order, but something Sara's tone demanded obedience. Frowning because he was a bit stung by her rejection, he switched the cameras off and lowered them, then began packing them back into their padded bag. When Sara laid a soft hand on his shoulder, he looked up, startled – and suddenly understood.

She was going to try to use the Witchblade.

His frown faded and he gave her the slightest of nods to show he understood.

Sara knelt beside the corpse, touching its shoulder lightly, and for a moment her eyes unfocused the way they always did when the Witchlade was showering her something. But it lasted only a second before reality snapped back into focus and she stood up. "Damnit," she muttered, and then—

With a gasp, she fell to her knees, clutching at her throat and gagging as though something had hold of it.

"Sara!" Shocked, Danny crouched beside her, his hands on her shoulders to support her as her eyes rolled and she clawed at the skin of her neck. "Sara, snap out of it!" he bellowed. "_What_ is going on?!"

Danny was never quite certain what happened next; he remembered only a flash of red light so brilliant he instinctively reached up to cover his eyes, and when he lowered his hands Sara was on all fours, doubled over on the pavement but breathing again.

Danny hauled himself upright and, together with Gabriel, stretched out a hand to Sara. "Pez… you alright?" It took them a moment to get her onto her feet.

She didn't answer his question for a long while, and when she did her voice was so calm that Danny knew she was terrified. "I'm fine," she said quietly. "I think I need to go home now."

Both men stared at her. "Pez, what _happened?_" Danny demanded. "I thought you were having a heart attack or something! You scared the _shit_ out of me!"

"I'm sorry," she said in the same monotone, steady voice. "I'll see you two later." And with that, she walked off.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The moment she had closed her apartment door behind her, Sara leaned against it and let out a long and tremulous breath. "Fuuuuuuuuck," she gasped, leaning against the door and sliding down it until she was in a sitting position. "Fuck," she repeated, as if to make sure the universe understood her sentiments on the matter.

Sara Pezzini was not certain what exactly had transpired in that alleyway, but she knew what it had felt like, and it was and experience she devoutly hoped never to repeat. It had felt as if her blood were trying to claw its way out of her throat, as if something within her was fighting to break free and didn't care whether it destroyed her body in its desperate escape.

She wondered dimly whether, if the Witchblade hadn't intervened, she would have died.


End file.
